Malleus Maleficarum
by Solain Rhyo
Summary: Advent Children: Summoned by Cloud, Yuffie reunites again with her friends to deal with the new threat. One of the new enemies, however, is drawn to her as the moth is drawn to the flame. YazYuff, AU. Spoilers within, consider yourselves warned.
1. One

_**A/N: **I first posted this fic sometime last year and was using only the trailers for Advent Children as a basis of comparison for Yazoo. Having recently seen the movie in its entirety made me want to finish this; however I realized that my portrayal of Yazoo was a bit off. I've tweaked some things in both this chapter and the next; it's my personal opinion that there wasn't enough of Yazoo shown in the movie to get a really good handle on his personality, but this is my attempt._

_**NOTE: **For anyone who has yet to see the movie, there WILL be spoilers later on. If you have seen the movie, however, you will notice that the storyline I made up for this fic months ago has some huge discrepancies in relation to the actual film; therefore I ask that you consider this an AU fic._

**XIX**

Yuffie was being followed.

It didn't surprise her; she'd been expecting something like this would happen. From the moment three days ago when she'd answered her PHS using her trademark flippant greeting -_"Yo, Yuffie here! This had better be good!"-_ and heard the quietly grim voice of one Cloud Strife on the other end she'd simply known that trouble was coming, and that it would be unavoidable. That very day she'd left Wutai, hitching a ride on her father's private jet to the main continent to reunite again with the others she had fought alongside in the Meteor incident. Cloud's hurried explanation over the PHS had been brief and totally unenlightening, but she knew him well enough to realize that the underlying tone to his words was a mixture of fear and apprehension. It had to be bad to rouse Cloud –Mr. Stoic- into such a state, and so she'd arrived on the mainland feeling a bit nervous herself.

Cloud had met her, along with most the others she'd journeyed with. Cait Sith was absent, which didn't really surprise her, but what was astonishing was the presence of Vincent Valentine, recluse extraordinaire . The fact that he was present put a whole new level of urgency on the issue, and as Cloud explained his reason for assembling them all together Yuffie experience a peculiar sinking sensation deep in the pit of her stomach that she had never really felt before …

_Despair._

There were three of them, Cloud explained –three men almost identical to Sephiroth, three men who were quite blatantly hostile. Their purpose was unknown, but it was undoubtedly sinister, and had something to do with all the children so recently afflicted by _GeoStigma. _Which was why, Cloud explained, he had called them all together – people were needed to protect the children and to gather information on the three men, and people were needed to keep close tabs on the now wheelchair bound Rufus. The son of the former President was also the current employer of Cloud; Rufus had seemingly had a change of heart in the face of his near death experience almost two years ago. Cloud detailed to his gathered friends that he didn't trust Rufus, and Yuffie wasn't the only to think his mistrust was rightly so. And so the friends, brought together in times of danger and reunited once again under dire circumstances, dispersed to do what it was Cloud asked of them.

Which brought Yuffie to where she was now – walking along an isolated street in New Midgar, keeping within the glow of the streetlights, and knowing with cold certainty that someone was following her.

She sighed. She had an inkling of who it was. She had been assigned the dubious honor of attempting to locate Tseng, former leader of the Turks. The only thing impeding her search was the fact that nobody knew for certain whether Tseng still lived; rumors about his demise were numerous and ranged from ludicrous to highly probable, and Rufus himself was remaining tight lipped about the matter. Cloud had a suspicion that there was more behind the scenes than his new employer was letting on –hence Yuffie's currently fruitless assignment.

Throughout the day, as she'd roamed New Midgar discreetly questioning and discriminately searching for something –anything- that would set her in the right direction, she'd caught glimpses of someone tall, someone red headed, someone familiar watching her from afar. She'd almost shrugged it off until she recognized the lanky, slouched form as none other that Reno of the Turks. He was making a good show of pretending he was in fact out for a day on the town, but Yuffie had spent much of her life carousing with unsavoury characters and was willing to bet that A) he was trailing her and B) he was doing so at Rufus' request. This made Yuffie wonder if perhaps Cloud's suspicions weren't correct … why would Rufus need to know what she was doing?

As a car passed her with the quiet rumble of its engine, headlights piercing the gloom that came in the moments before dusk, Yuffie snorted. Why indeed? That was million dollar question, wasn't it? Keeping her head down, her hands in the pockets of the tan slacks she'd donned for the purpose of this outing, Yuffie concentrated on the sound of her footsteps against the sidewalk and was able to discern –just barely- other footsteps echoing her own. Her path carried her past a small pub situated at an intersection in streets; she rounded the corner at a casual pace and immediately pressed her back against the brick wall of the pub. One hand slid to free her shuriken from where it rode tight against her back beneath her jacket as she focused on quieting her breathing; the footsteps that had followed her drew ever closer …

Her fingers tightened over her freed weapon as a form appeared; expecting to see Reno, she was somewhat taken aback to find that instead of a Turk it was merely a young woman carrying a baby in a harness; the woman didn't glance in Yuffie's direction and instead continued straight across the street. When she was out of sight Yuffie sighed in irritation; being around Cloud was already messing with her nerves. What she needed was a good stiff drink at a bar … preferably the new Seventh Heaven. Nobody mixed drinks quite like Tifa …

Her train of thought derailed as she turned, preparing to take the shortest route to Seventh Heaven, for some five paces from her was a man, standing just beyond the reach of the nearest streetlight and thus was suitably shrouded from view. Yuffie eyed him warily, thinking perhaps it was a homeless drunk, or maybe even some down on their luck ruffian looking to sell their body. When the man didn't move, Yuffie decided she'd simply walk around him, and began to do so when he spoke.

"Yuffie Kisaragi."

She froze at the sound of her name, for this was no voice she recognized. Keeping a distance between them, she circled the man, trying to make out distinguishing features, attempting to recognize a face. He turned as she did, pivoting on the spot; a few seconds passed in silence before she demanded shortly, "Who are you?"

No answer came. Yuffie scowled after a long moment of drawn out silence, the hand holding her shuriken twitching in a menacing manner. Something about this was making her increasingly nervous. Finally she said, "Show yourself."

In silhouette, she could see his head dip once in acquiescence; two steps he took then, until he stood just within the lurid wash of the street lamp. Yuffie couldn't stop the strangled noise that escaped her as certain things were brought to her immediate attention – the similarities she couldn't deny in the haughty structure of the face, in the long lengths of the metallic hair, in the cat-like depths of his eerie eyes. When she found her voice again she said unevenly, "You are not Sephiroth."

A minute smile graced his face. "No."

"But you're tied to him somehow." As she spoke her eyes feverishly took in other details; the sophisticated mixture of black armor and leather that encased entirely his lean form; the wicked looking gunblade worn in a loose holster about his hips.

"Yes." He replied, smile never fading.

Ah. This then was one of the three Cloud had spoken of. "What's your name?" Yuffie asked with a belligerence she didn't quite feel.

"Yazoo."

A smirk came to her then at his name, but faded quickly as she found herself on the receiving end of a gaze both cold and completely enigmatic. Struggling to gain the footing she felt rapidly slipping away from her, Yuffie asked, "What do you want?"

"Simply to talk," Yazoo said, taking first one step and then another towards her, the movements smooth and predatory. Refusing to give way, Yuffie remained where she was, craning her neck back to glare at the taller man. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to leave here, to flee and leave this danger behind. She'd never been one to listen to common sense, however, and so when he stopped a mere hairsbreadth from her she steeled her nerve and waited with bated breath for what would come next.

"I've been told you're a foolish girl," Yazoo said, the hint of another vague smile flickering about his lips.

"I've been told you're an asshole," she snapped back, and was disappointed when his smile became full blown and one of genuine entertainment.

"Impertinent," he remarked.

"You're not the first to say."

"Little girls," he whispered then, leaning so close his breath fanned her face, "Shouldn't be out past dark."

"What are you going do about it?" She took great pride in the fact that even though every muscle she owned was tense and quivering, her voice was still steady.

He drew back, smile fading, and something dangerous, something cruel slid behind his eyes. And in the next instant he had freed his gunblade from its holster; as he brought it up to bear Yuffie was moving, striking out with the speed and agility she so prided herself on. She brought the shuriken down just as he took aim at her; before he could pull the trigger she'd twisted his arm down and away so that when he fired, the bullet rebounded off the sidewalk and projected harmlessly away. He retaliated with a swiftness that was astonishing, ripping away from her and delivering a powerful backhand blow that sent her reeling. Staggering around to face him, she wiped with her forearm a trickle of blood from her mouth, hoisting her weapon up in preparation to throw.

Yazoo watched her intently for a long moment before he let fall the gunblade, and it clattered loudly to the ground. Confused, wary, Yuffie frowned at him.

"Weapons are overrated," he said with another unpleasant smile.

She understood then; he wanted hand to hand combat, and her answering smile was jubilant. He was underestimating her, but he would find that out the hard way …

"Alright," she said, tossing the shuriken aside and dropping into a defensive crouch.

And had very little time to prepare, for suddenly he was coming for her. _Fast._

**XIX**

_**Another Note: **In my head, I kind of thought that when confronted with Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo Cloud would be able to put two and two together and realize that they were tied to Seph some how. I just figured that silver hair and creepy eyes, not to mention above average strength, agility and overall power were sort of a dead giveaway. I guess I was wrong, but that's the story I'm going with for this fic. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Two

**XIX**

In the split second she had before he reached her, Yuffie felt a wave of familiar calm resolution settle over her. While she had no doubt that Yazoo was dangerous, she was also willing to bet that he saw her just at face value and had no idea what she was actually capable of … which brought a fierce, wicked smile to her face as she dropped quickly to the ground, using both hands to support her weight as she swept out with one long leg roundhouse to knock him off his feet. He hit the ground on his back, rolling; Yuffie sprang upright, intending to deliver several well placed kicks, but her opponent had come up into a crouch, with a smile much like her own crossing his face.

"Impressive," he remarked, breathing fast, and came for her again in a rush of silver and black. She twisted aside, catching him at the shoulder and elbow, meaning to execute a throw; he reversed it easily, dipping beneath her arm and spinning behind her back before flipping her to the ground. As he lifted his foot to deliver a blow she scuttled back beyond his reach, getting her feet beneath her and throwing herself at him as he regained his balance.

She smashed into him with enough force to send them both skittering across the length of the sidewalk and into the rough surface of the street. She thrust herself up and away from him, propelling herself to her knees. He had recovered faster, to her dismay, and as she attempted to stand, to leap aside, he caught her firmly by the neck with one outstretched hand. As his fingers tightened she struggled to spit out a long stream of derogatory expletives; her eyes widened as he hoisted her into the air seemingly without exertion, the arm holding her steady and still.

"Quite the little fighter," he said softly, narrowed eyes glinting slightly in the dirty wash of lamplight.

Unable to breathe, Yuffie swung both legs up, striking him hard in the middle of the chest; he stumbled back, releasing her and she landed cat-like on all fours. As she rose to assume another fighting stance he straightened and turned once more to face her.

"That," he growled, "hurt."

"Good," she spat back, massaging at her bruised throat. For a long, tense moment they simply stood, regarding each other, measuring, speculating. When Yuffie made an insolent _"come and get it"_ gesture his answering smile was wolfish, and he complied so quickly he was a blur.

They began to spar in earnest; Yuffie meeting his lunge with a savage elbow to the chest followed by a low kick to the shin; he whirled about with a hiss, catching at her arm and wrenching it behind her back. She dropped to her knees then, the momentum sending him rolling across her back, and as he released her in order to maintain his balance she unleashed a swift and brutal roundhouse upon him. Too late she saw his faltering had been pretence, and moving like quicksilver he caught her by the ankle, halting the kick, and in the next seconds had used his grip as leverage to twist her about and cast he away.

She soared several feet, striking the pavement so hard it drove the wind from her. Trying in vain to get air into her lungs, she watched through hazed vision as Yazoo approached her from the side, and when he stood above her with an unreadable expression she tried to get her body to move in vain. In an effortless folding of limbs he descended, kneeling so that he straddled her body; she swiped at him with one fist but it merely struck him a glancing blow in the shoulder.

"You surprise me," he told her in a quietly amused voice. "You put up a better fight than expected."

"I'm just full of surprises," she wheezed belligerently, lying still as to marshal her strength.

"I can only imagine." He leaned down then, crossing both arms over her chest and resting his chin on them, regarding her with eyes full of both undisguised interest and the shadow of a quiet threat. His manner now sent a shiver of alarm running through her; it was that of a playful cat with a cornered mouse. Surely he'd been sent to kill her –why then this game, this toying?

"What else is there to know about you, little princess?" He asked, his tone gently mocking as her title of heritage passed his lips.

"I'm going to kick your ass," she said with deadly calm.

"Indeed?"

"Get. Off. Of. Me."

"Manners, princess." He chided, shaking his head. Strands of his spider thread hair brushed across her cheek at the movement and she swiped at them angrily with one hand. He lowered his face then until it hovered directly over her own, and when he spoke next his lips brushed hers. "You are intriguing. Not what I expected at all. What else is there, I wonder, to know about you?"

She ignored the veiled, threatening hint in his voice and instead slammed her head hard against his. As he reared back she struck out with the heel of her palm directly to his chin, snapping his head back and causing him to topple off of her with a snarl. Swiftly she came to her feet, wincing at the pain in her ribs from her collision with the pavement; she watched for only a moment as Yazoo, his back to her, got somewhat slowly to his feet before she made the unprecedented decision to do something she'd never done before …

She turned on her heel and fled.

**xxx**


	3. Three

_**Author's Note: **I dedicate this chapter to Chocobo Goddess, for encouraging me to finish it after I'd abandoned it for the better part of a year._

**XIX**

Her flight was faltering; her side ached as her ribs protested the movement, and the result was a half-run, half-stagger that was nowhere near as fast as she needed it to be. She'd made it almost twenty feet when she heard something indecipherable shouted behind her. A breath later another and unmistakable sound reached her ears, and she instinctively dropped to the ground to avoid the bullet she knew was coming. She heard it whistle by as she dove, a puff of air from its passage gracing her cheek. In the silence that followed she heard the swift, steady approach of footfalls, and she hoisted herself up with the intent to bolt headlong down the nearest side street.

"I wouldn't, if I were you." Said the voice she was fast beginning to both become familiar with and hate.

He was fast, unnervingly so; Yuffie raised both hands in the air in desperate supplication lest he feel the need to fire yet another shot. Wondering how the hell he'd reached her so swiftly, she pivoted slowly on the spot, willing the growing unease within her to fade away. He was, as she'd expected, standing a mere several paces away; his gunblade was held aloft with a steady arm and pointed directly at her.

"I really didn't think you would run," he remarked. Though she couldn't see his expression for the shadows veiling his form, she had the distinct impression he was somewhat amused by her would-be escape attempt.

"It's not something I do often," she snapped back, feeling her cheeks burn as a sudden wave of shame washed through her. It was true; she never ran from a fight. But this man wasn't normal – this man was an echo of the one person who had really ever terrified her, of a man who had come very close to forcing the very Planet to submit to him. It wasn't only that, she acknowledged with a small trace of panic as she watched him take first one step and then another closer –there was something about his behavior, about the way he acted so unlike anybody else she'd ever encountered, that send shivers of alarm racing all throughout her body. She'd never been treated like this before; sure, she'd been in her share of brawls and occasional pissing contests with men who thought that simply because they were larger they were therefore stronger than she was, but with Yazoo it was something else, and it was that something else that made her realize that it wasn't only nervousness that was slowly overwhelming her.

It was fear.

"So why," Yazoo asked her then, and he was close enough now that she could see him clearly, "Did you run from me?"

It took her a moment to formulate a response, as her mind was screaming at her frantically to do something, to do _anything_ that would get her away, far away from this stranger and his ominous presence. Finally she said with as much belligerence as she could muster, "Because I don't like you."

He made a chiding noise, shaking his head; the streetlamp a short distance from them both caught the metallic sheen of his hair, glinting. "We've only just met."

"I wish we hadn't. Really." She said, hoping the fervor in her words would be mistaken for rudeness.

He smiled then, a slow curving of the lips that made her instinctively back a step. He pulled back the hammer on his gunblade at the movement, and at the sound she became very still. "Ah, ah, ah," he said, still smiling, "I would prefer it if you wouldn't move, princess. I'm not quite through with you yet."

The combination of both his words and the way he said them made her swallow thickly, and for a long moment she wondered at her chances of surviving should she attempt to tackle him or knock the gunblade from his grasp. He must have seen her thoughts fill her eyes, because he said in a tone of warning, "It would be most unpleasant, should you try."

"I thought you said weapons were overrated."

"They are. But you ran from me, and this was an effective way of stopping you, wouldn't you agree? Of making you stand absolutely still?"

Yuffie nodded, because he had a point. She definitely wouldn't be doing much in the way of sudden and unexpected gestures with the gunblade crosshairs hovering over her chest. _Where_, she wondered a bit desperately, _are the others? Why isn't Cloud here? He's the reason I'm in this mess …_

Yazoo was moving; it took every ounce of self control Yuffie had not to move from where she stood. When he'd drawn close enough the shining, cool edge of his weapon brushed softly against her cheek. She swallowed hard, willing a car to come motoring down the street to mow him down, willing a falling star to strike him dead where he stood. When none of that happened, when he leaned slowly closer until her vision was filled only with the conflicting glint of his hair and the luminosity of his eyes, Yuffie realized that she was no longer in big trouble.

She was in very dire straits.

"You're afraid." He commented quietly, a ghost of a smile flickering about his mouth.

"You're a creep." She snapped in instant reply.

He tilted his head to the side, as if pondering her words; the blade of his weapon now rested against her shoulder, and though she was very tempted to knock it aside she knew with cold, definite certainty that this man's speed and skill were equal –if not greater- than her own. And so she stood with unwilling complacence, waiting with steadily growing dread for what would come next.

"Tell me – am I to you only a shadow of Sephiroth?" he asked finally, and expecting something completely different –perhaps some more threats?- Yuffie blinked at him in bemusement. He waited for her to answer, regarding her steadily with his eerie, inscrutable eyes.

Yuffie shook her head then. "No. You're no shadow."

One corner of his mouth tilted upwards at her words. "True. I am very much alive while he …isn't."

"Thank all that's holy," Yuffie muttered fervently.

He chuckled then, his disconcerting smile reappearing full force. "Let me rephrase – what I should have said is that he isn't in existence. Yet."

Yuffie, feeling her heart flutter, feeling her blood grow chill in her veins as she recognized the promise hidden within his words, whispered, "Yet?"

"Oh, yes, princess." As he continued Yuffie could feel how intent his regard upon her was, and she knew he was gauging her reaction to all he said. "It's part of why we're here, after all. First we must find Mother, and then many things will be made possible. Sephiroth will return."

"Why?"

"He is our brother," Yazoo went on, not heeding her question. "And once we're reunited, once we're together, all of us …"

There was something almost feverish about the gleam that grew in his eyes as he spoke, in the earnestness of his voice as his words trailed away. His attention focused on her again after a moment. "But you see, Mother has been hidden from us. We don't know where to find her."

"A real pity," Yuffie remarked with heavy insincerity, trying to maintain a façade of placid calm, trying not to let him know how perturbing his proclamations had been.

"It is. Without Mother, we are not whole. Cruel to deny us that completion, don't you think?"

"Not at all,"

"You really are intriguing." He commented after a moment. "You're afraid of me, but you refuse to show it. I wonder, is it bravado or just refusal to back down to anyone?"

"You talk pretty for a crazy," Yuffie snapped.

He laughed outright then, the sound carrying on the too still air around them. Yuffie took the opportunity to move, surging forward and shoving him with both hands; as his laughter became something harsh, something angry she dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the gleaming edge of the gunblade as it came hurtling down. She rolled swiftly into a crouch, facing him and knowing that she couldn't outrun him; as he slowly straightened after being unbalanced by her shove she wondered a bit desperately if she could even fight him …

He wasn't laughing now; cat-like eyes aglow with distinct threat he raised the gunblade very deliberately until it was trained over her heart. Yuffie took a deep, silent breath, prepared to leap aside, prepared to make what she knew was going to be the_ real_ fight for her life. A moment later a gunshot thundered, and it was only as she watched the silver haired man whirl about with astonishing agility to deflect the bullet that she realized it wasn't he who had fired. Her eyes flew to and then focused on her savior standing some ten feet away, visible in the light of the street lamps, and she stifled a dismayed groan.

She'd been saved by a Turk.

**IXI**


	4. Four

**IXI**

"It doesn't look like she's enjoying your company, yo." Reno remarked idly. Gun cradled in both hands and a smoldering cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, he looked at Yuffie where she was crouched and said, "You're a hard one to follow, you know?"

Yuffie stared at him, half incredulous, half apprehensive. Yazoo, gunblade now trained steadily on the Turk, said slowly after a moment, "You. You were flying the helicopter."

Reno nodded, removing one hand from the gun in order to take hold of his cigarette. He took one last, long drag before letting it fall, and as he ground it beneath the heel of his boot an unpleasant smile crossed his face. "Yeah, that was me. Sorry I didn't stay to join the fun – I had an important delivery to make, you see."

"Where," Yazoo asked in a soft voice that was almost razor sharp in its intensity, "Is Mother?"

Reno's smile twisted, becoming instead his trademark smirk. "Can't tell you that, yo. It's classified."

And a mere instant later the silver haired man was moving, surging forwards and bringing his gunblade down in a swift, savage arc. Reno nimbly danced back beyond his reach; undeterred Yazoo leapt for him again. Shots rang out, deafening on the still night air, and like quicksilver the gunblade rose and fell, deflecting the bullets mid-flight. Reno kept firing, backing steadily away, giving himself ground. Yuffie, having risen to her feet, contemplated a course of action for only a second. She'd already run once, and besides, two against one seemed fair …

She collided with Yazoo just as he was preparing to launch himself at the Turk; it wasn't so much a tackle as it was a shove, and she was careful not to become entangled with him and fall as well. Like before his recovery was immediate; he struck the ground hard but twisted the impact into a roll, coming up on one knee. Some cover fire from Reno afforded Yuffie the time she needed to dart away, beyond the reach of the gunblade; the harsh ring of metal on metal informed her that yet again he'd managed to ward off the bullets.

"Play nice!" Reno shouted as Yuffie leapt backwards, putting greater distance between herself and Yazoo.

Yazoo didn't comply. He was moving even before Reno had finished speaking, lunging for the Turk. This time when Reno fired Yazoo didn't bother deflecting them; instead he twisted lithely aside, dodging them in a blur of black and silver. He was in front of the Turk so quickly that it was all Reno could do to avoid being impaled; he ducked low and lashed out with the butt of the handgun. The blow never landed; with fluidic ease Yazoo whirled away, and as Reno fought to regain his balance the silver-haired man delivered a roundhouse kick that threw the Turk to land roughly a few feet away. Reno scrambled to his feet as gunfire bit into the ground all around him, empty handed now as his gun had been knocked from his grasp.

Yuffie, running low to the ground, swiftly cut in behind Yazoo, and as he turned to face her she feinted to the left. He rushed her; she fell back and as he swept past she brought her elbow up hard to catch him in the chin. Her follow-through uppercut never connected – he caught her wrist in his free hand and ducked beneath her arm, brutally twisting it behind her back. The pain almost dropped Yuffie to her knees; somewhere in front of her she heard Reno swear vehemently, for the only shot he had at Yazoo now was through Yuffie.

"Does your friend want me dead badly enough to kill you in the process?" Yazoo asked softly, bending low so that his mouth was directly beside her ear.

Yuffie made a rude noise; he wrenched on her arm, twisting it further, and she caught her breath in agony. She said in a voice that wavered despite her best attempts to keep it from doing so, "He's not my friend."

"No?" Yazoo's breath fanned her hair, brushed along the line of her cheek. "He was quick to come to your rescue, wasn't he?"

"It wasn't a rescue, yo," Reno called from where he stood. Yuffie noted uneasily that his gun was trained in her direction. "I was following her and saw you attack. Didn't your mother ever teach you to never mistreat a lady?"

"My Mother," Yazoo said loudly enough for him to hear, "Is currently missing –but you know that. Tell me where she is."

"Nothing doing." Reno shook his head. "Find her yourself."

"You know, your companions –the ones we caught in the crater?- were like this too. They wouldn't talk no matter what we did to them …" Yazoo's voice, mocking, trailed off, and it wasn't hard to comprehend what it was he _hadn't_ said.

The barb hit home; Reno produced a brittle smile. "It's a Turk thing."

"Would you be the same as they were, I wonder?"

"You'd just love to find out, wouldn't you?" Reno shook his head with a belligerent smirk. "Ain't gonna happen."

Yazoo's reply was cut short as Yuffie fell heavily to her knees, pitching forwards as to pull her captor off balance. He dropped to one knee, caught off guard, and surging forwards Yuffie broke free. She twisted around quickly in order to deliver a powerful kick, and with a snarl he staggered to the side. Had it not been for Reno suddenly opening fire he would have leapt for her again; instead he was forced to dart several steps back.

Reno's sudden shout ripped her attention away from Yazoo. She turned to find the Turk clutching his right hand with his left, the gun lying on the ground at his feet. Even from where she stood she could see the large hole in the center of his palm, could see the dark liquid seeping forth to drip onto his boots. Her eyes traced a path from Turk to the new assailant; she made a soft sound of dismay as she took in the tall, burly man holding a gunblade that was identical to that of Yazoo's. The newcomer wore a smirk that was similar to Reno's in its arrogance, and it didn't take much more than the glint of silver in his hair to inform Yuffie that this was the second of the three Cloud had spoken of.

He asked, in a deep baritone, "Do they know where Mother is?"

"She doesn't." Yazoo replied, nodding his head in her direction. He pointed with his gunblade to Reno. "He does."

"Do I?" Reno choked out, face twisted in pain. He was still clutching his mangled hand. "You want to find Jenova? You're looking in the wrong place. She fell from the helicopter after you attacked us in the crater."

The two silver-haired men regarded the Turk in silence for a moment. "You're lying." The newcomer said finally.

Reno gave a sound that was half-laugh, half-agonized gasp. "You don't believe me? Talk to Rufus."

Yuffie watched the exchange with bated breath, hoping fervently they would do as Reno suggested. There was no way in hell that she and the injured Turk could take on both men; they'd had a hard time with just one.

"Our brother wants a word with your boss anyway," Yazoo said, head inclining slightly to the side. "But if we find out you've been lying to us, friend …"

At his side, the newcomer nodded, saying, "You'll regret it."

"And as for you," Yazoo swivelled to face Yuffie where she stood, hands at her sides, fisted in preparation for combat. He regarded her for a long moment, expression inscrutable. Yuffie could feel the eyes of the newcomer heavy upon her as well. "I think I'll be seeing you again."

"I really hope not," Yuffie said, and every word was sincere.

Yazoo smiled, inclining his head in her direction before turning. The newcomer glared at her for a moment, and Yuffie had the distinct impression he was sizing her up, trying to find something impressive about her and failing. Flooded with relief that the disaster had been avoided, Yuffie gave him her own version of a smirk. His glare deepened, and he took one step forward.

"Loz." Yazoo called back to his comrade from where he stood some several feet ahead. The newcomer –Loz- turned and stalked away without a backward glance, and Yuffie watched after them until they were out of sight. She hastened then to Reno, who was leaning hard against the side of a building, injured hand cradled close to his chest. He watched her come through eyes narrowed in pain; he had, she noticed with a degree of amusement, managed to get another smoke both lit and into his mouth. She said as she neared, "You didn't have to-"

"This is the thanks I get?" He interrupted. He nodded down at his bleeding hand. "I took a bullet for you, yo."

Despite herself, Yuffie felt guilty. While the fact that she'd been rescued by anyone, let alone a Turk –and the fact that she'd needed rescuing, for that matter- didn't sit well with her, she knew that if he hadn't shown, things would be looking rather dire for her right now. "Thanks," she said grudgingly, and then asked, "Is someone coming for you?"

Reno nodded, the cigarette in his mouth bobbing with the movement. "Rude should've been here a while ago," he muttered, pausing as his face contorted with pain, "Asshole always leaves me hanging."

Yuffie almost smiled. Instead she asked. "Yazoo –how do you know him?"

"That," Reno said, letting go of his injured hand long enough to take a hold of the cigarette and take a long, deep drag, "Is confidential. Sorry."

"Sorry, my ass," She said.

The Turk smiled a little at that. "You're just lucky I was following you."

"Why were you following me? And just so you know, I caught sight of you hours ago. You're not very good at tailing someone."

"Heh. Maybe I wanted you to see me." When she snorted, he continued. "Can't tell you why, yo. It's-"

"I know. Confidential." Yuffie interrupted, exasperated.

"That's the way it is," he said with a shrug. Puffing on the cigarette he said, "You should get out of here. Find Strife." He saw her begin to shake her head and belayed her refusal. "I'll be ok. I told you, Rude is coming. Now get out of here."

She stared at him for a moment. "Alright. And thanks again."

He nodded, raising his uninjured hand in a wave. Without further comment she turned and began to run, heading for where she'd first encountered Yazoo in order to pick up her weapon. From there she began to navigate the streets quickly, still on edge from her encounter. Cloud had been concerned about the silver-haired men, and now Yuffie knew beyond a doubt that he had real reason to be. Yazoo's words came back to her; all he had said about Jenova, about Sephiroth …

As much as she didn't want to realize it, it seemed like her worst nightmare –and that of all her friends- might just come true.

**IXI**


End file.
